White Shadow Assassin's Creed 2
by Lokiia
Summary: Ezio slips up? What'll happen now! Story with EzioxOP. Minor coarse language, violence  but not extreme, gory kind , guyxguy. Two views
1. Chapter 1

_I am in no way associated with the creators of Assassin's Creed 2. This story is merely a fanmade story, created with no thought or intention of financial gain, and only viewer pleasure. _

_Please enjoy._

Hot and stuffy, that's what the courtyard was. Unbearably so. Every breath, and he breathed in the scent -he could even taste it!- of sweaty, dirty people. Festivals in Italia… the first hour was to die for… by three hours in, though, he _wished_ he could die. All around him the press of bodies pushing against him. He was a big man, but here that didn't matter. The people of Italia could party all night, all day. And he was only three hours in.

His name was Antoine Valcari, renowned blacksmith of Venice, Italy. Known far and wide for his superior crafting skills, he was here for one reason and one reason only. He was not a partier, and he never would be. He was here _only_ because one of the most important nobles in the land had requested his attendance, probably to arrange a customized rapier or cutlass. The nobles were always asking him for such things, to brag about to their friends. It was something Antoine disliked, but didn't comment on. He made his blades to see action, but unfortunately, Venice wasn't much of a action-packed spot. Mostly they ended up being ornaments. It was a shame. A damn shame.

Sweat trickled down his neck, breaking him from his reverie. As if a signal, the heat in the courtyard inched higher, until Antoine felt he was choking. Finally, having had enough the oppressive heat, Antoine stood. Immediately, a gap formed around him. Sitting down he was impressive, but not shockingly so. Standing up, people noticed just how _big_ he was. He was overweight big, but tall and muscular big. He was 6'4 in height, and working in the blacksmith all day had made his arms considerable. Too many times to count he'd been "bumped" into by the eligible ladies, nobles and non alike, and all wishing for just _one_ dance. He'd always gently turned them down tough, claiming that in the heat if he danced he'd pass out. True, but not the whole reason.

As Antoine walked along, his circle of emptiness around him growing smaller by the second, he desperately searched for an escape route, even if for only a moment. Finally, he spotted it… a little path that led _away_ from the courtyard, presumably to some hidden grotto. He hesitated a moment, not wanting to intrude upon any star-crossed lovers, but shook his head. At the moment, he _really_ didn't care.

He reached the pathway just in time, cutting off a young couple going off on their own. He shot them a quick, possessive glare, and they both flushed bright pink. It would have been amusing, had Antoine not been so hot and sticky. At the moment, he wasn't in the mood. The couple quickly headed off in another direction, to another grotto he suspected, and he was able to sigh quietly. The darkness and coolness of night was incredibly relaxing, and he fought a chill working its way down his back. Yes, this was night.

Tall bushes edged the walkway, leaving Antoine with the deceiving feeling of utter privacy. He knew that only feet away a festival was in full swing, and yet he couldn't even hear them. It was nice.

He chose a small, rather unnoticeable bench, partly covered by over-grown hedges, and sat down quietly. Something he hadn't thought of was how his dark clothing, his best for the noble, hid him. He didn't realize it at first, but as a guard passed on rounds, he realized he was nearly invisible. It gave him a nice, powerful feeling. It was something that the normal man wasn't permitted to feel very often. Very nice.

And then suddenly, it wasn't. Antoine watched another guard pass, expecting nothing to happen once again. Then, suddenly the guard stopped dead, a strange expression crossing his face. His hands trembled, and he dropped his spear. Slowly his hand moved to his chest, and a pained expression crossed his face, an expression of which Antoine had never seen before. Then, before the blacksmith's very eyes, the man toppled forward, and died.

Silently, after a moment, a white shadow moved to his side, one hand reaching out to touch the man's throat, where the pulse should be. Evidently pleased with the outcome, the shadow stood.

What ran through his mind never should have, and yet it did. Later he would call himself a traitor, and a horrible person. The night would run through his dreams later, twisted into nightmares. And through it all, through the slow realization that someone had _died_ in front of him, Antoine had time to admire the shadow. It was a … very handsome shadow.

And then it was moving away. Startled, Antoine stared after him, then frowned. He stood up quickly, but still quietly. He ran after the white shadow, speeding along ahead of him. The path went on forever it seemed, like a maze. And then the shadow was there in front of him again, staring up at the roof above the courtyard. Debating, it appeared. He stilled had not heard Antoine, and so Antoine took in a steady breath, and slowly crept forward. Slowly, carefully, and cautiously, Antoine prepared himself….

And launched himself at the shadow.


	2. Chapter 2

_**I am in no way associated with the creators of Assassin's Creed 2. This story is merely a fanmade story, created with no thought or intention of financial gain, and only viewer pleasure.**_

_**Please enjoy.**_

**CHAPTER TWO**

The struggle was brief, but terrifying. Antoine had always scoffed at those who said whenever something terrifying or exhilarating happened, time slowed. He wished he could take back those sounds of disgust, for there was no way to describe how he could memorize every part of the fight.

Antoine had managed to wrap his arms around the Shadow's neck, and was now barely avoiding the desperate swings of the man's arms. The silver glint of metal warned him that a hit from those arms would leave him like the guard, only perhaps worse. Who knew what was on those blades. Poison? Filth? Or would he just be allowed to bleed to death in the middle of this maze? Somehow, he didn't put it past this man who had casually killed a guard, sparing him no second glance as he sped away, cape flowing behind him.

With the image of black blood seeping into the ground, Antoine's arms tightened, and he was startled to realize that time _must've_ passed while he'd been thinking, for the man's flailing was growing weaker. Soon he would be either dead or passed out. In order to ensure it would be passed out, Antoine abruptly released his death-grip, swung the man around, and swifty punched him in the face. The man crumpled, caught by Antoine before he hit the ground. He wondered why he'd bothered to catch the man, then reasoned it was simply natural. He'd have done it to anyone.

Antoine, still holding the man, headed back in the direction he'd come from, this time choosing the way that wouldn't lead them back to the bench and the dead man, but to the courtyard instead. He sincerely hoped that the party had started to die down, since him carrying an unconscious man into the middle of a big bash would likely cause chaos, and that would help no one. Still, it was nearly impossibly to avoid going through the party-goers. Hopefully they would stay calm.

Ha. Right.

So he'd been a little pessimistic, or something of the sort. When he'd emerged into the courtyard with an unconscious man in his arms, the place had first gone silent, starting with one or two people, and slowing finding its way through the rest of the yard. Then, people began whispering to each other. However, when you've got that many people whispering, it sounds like a dull roar. Still, no one freaked out besides a couple of women, who ended up fainting. Swooning. He still didn't get the difference.

In minutes, the man was removed from Antoine's arms, and he was grilled mercilessly for about an hour and a half. The police had only let him go thanks to the noble who had asked him to come, who had arrived on the scene spouting words of praise about Antoine, and shaking a finger at the police for daring to suspect that such a fabulous man would ever harm another honest citizen. If this hadn't come at such a great price, Antoine would've laughed. It was ridiculous how much the man trusted him for no other reason than he made good sword. Odds were that the man he'd caught was also a "fabulous" man, who was trusted deeply by his neighbors and friends.

Finally home, Antoine settled down into a chair, thinking quietly about the night. He wasn't as shaken as he should've been, he knew. He was sad for the guard's death, but he was… disturbed. He recognized death, but he didn't… panic when presented to it. This disturbed him more than the death. When the people in the courtyard learned someone had died that night, chaos had finally broken loose. People were crying, screaming, and running from the scene, even though the killer had already been apprehended.

A knock on the door disturbed him, and he stood up slowly, wondering who was at the door so late at night. Or early in the morning. It should've been about 3 now, so everyone should've been asleep.

Frowning, Antoine walked over to the door, looking through the peephole curiously. When he wasn't confronted by a figure in white, he opened it slowly. A note was thrust in his face, and he jerked back quickly. He grabbed the note, and then the hand disappeared, and the messenger with it.

Curiosity piqued once more, Antoine turned for a letter opener, and sat down once more. Slowly, carefully, he broke the seal. Dawn found him still in that chair, still reading the note in his hands.


	3. Chapter 3

_I am in no way associated with the creators of Assassin's Creed 2. This story is merely a fanmade story, created with no thought or intention of financial gain, and only viewer pleasure._

_I'm sorry if the Italian is off, lol. I used google translate, so odds are many things are wrong (: I tried though, and I think it makes it a bit more like the game._

_Please enjoy._

He should've been able to predict it… it was all too cliché, a plot twist from a cheap novel one would gift only to a child. How could he not have seen this would happen? The man… that man had been like a ghost, a shadow. One could not keep a shadow locked up. The proof was in his hands. A note, and a feather. The man had escaped the police within the hour, and had followed Antoine home. It was the only explanation for the note he now held in his hands, a simple note that told him that the shadow had been impressed, and would be watching him from now on. He didn't know what it meant, but it terrified him. All he could see was the satisfied look on the man's face as he stood up, hand red from the blood that had coated the guard's throat.

Dawn found him re-reading the note over and over again, a simple two lines, and a name. The name meant nothing to him except for a nagging suspicion that the name was famous somehow.

_You're good. I'll be watching._

_-Ezio Auditore de Firenze_

With that note had been a single, white feather. He didn't know the meaning behind the object, but it fit the man somehow. A quite owl, flowing through the air, talons open for the kill. A single dove, flying unnoticed through the city, there and yet not.

What was he doing? Sitting here admiring the man who was now following him? That was ridiculous.

Spurred into motion, Antoine flung open the doors of his wardrobe, picking some clothes and setting them into a bag. He quickly combed his black mane, before settling a hat over it. He washed his mouth out, giving them a quick scrub just to be sure. He would bathe when he reached his family's villa… it wasn't too far from Venice, and bathing now would be ridiculous. He would just be filthy from traveling anyways. When he was sure he looked preventable, he locked everything up, carefully keeping the note and the feather in a corner of his bag. When he reached the villa he would ask around for this "Ezio Auditore". Someone had to know.

Finally convinced he was ready, Antoine headed outside, carefully locking his door after him. He had valuable wares inside his home, and he would have to pay the guards extra to keep an eye out on the house. A pain, but worth it.

Outside Venice Antoine stopped by the stables. He greeted his blue roan gelding affectionately, giving him a quick rubdown. He didn't get to see his horse often, but he adored the thing, affectionately naming him "_Tuono_", Thunder.

A quick saddle up later, and Antoine was heading for his family's villa. Hopefully things would go well.

"Why have you come here, _bastardo_, like you belong here? Aii! Get out! Out! OUT!"

Laughing, Antoine dodged a flying pan, wincing when it hit the tree behind him. "_Mia sorella_, my sister! What is this? Have you missed me so much? Where is your husband, and that rascal son of yours?" He dodged again, this time from a rolling pin. His sister, Elisa, was fuming, and for once he didn't know why.

"You know why, you _cane_! You dog! Little Cristiano left soon after you, talking about his amazing _zio_, his astounding uncle! He left for the city, to become a blacksmith like you! How dare you, you _ratto_! Rat!" Elisa descended the porch steps, swinging a broom at her brother, brandishing the tool like a weapon.

"Elisa! Elisa! 'Little Cristiano" is 16 now! Only 8 years younger than myself! You must let him live! Let him bloom! If he wishes to be a blacksmith, then _meraviglioso_! Wonderful! I applaud him! It is a prosperous job, he will take care of his family well. If you wish reassurance, I will take him on as a student myself, _buono_? Good? Is this okay with you, darling _sorella_?"

Elisa Venoza was a spitfire of a woman, a full 16 years older than her little brother. She had married Frediano Venoza when Antoine was just 4 years old, and they had raised him together. Four years later, Elisa had given birth to Cristiano, and Antoine had helped raised him. Antoine had adored Elisa, and had so helped raised Cristiano, until the boy seemed to latch on Antoine, admiring him as a great man. It was highly embarrassing, and yet nice as well.

Now, though, Antoine had to defend himself. He grabbed the broom as she raised it once more, and kept her from swinging again. She glared at him, and he swore that if eyes were daggers, he would be dead. Probably twice.

"Elisa," he continued, voice lowered and calmer. "Relaxed, _sorella_. No harm will come to Cristiano. He has to grow up sometime, and he has chosen a fine profession to join. He will not go to war like some boys, and he will not guard a building like some men. He will be well-paid, and he will look like a handsome young man, too. Soon he will marry, and you will have grandchildren… I'm _geloso_, jealous, _sorella_. Congratulations." He held onto the broom and used it as a leverage, pulling her into a hug. She resisted for a moment, then hugged him back, too, fiercely.

"_Idiota_. I missed you. Come home more often," she whispered, before pushing off of him and smiling up at him, tears in her green eyes. "Come," she said, grabbing his hand and pulling him inside. "I made supper, and we have much to catch up on."


	4. Chapter 4

What a nice night… Antoine was still full from the meal Elisa had cooked, and they had sat around talking for hours, simply catching up. Now, though, they had cleaned up their messes, and were now heading upstairs to sleep. It was a large, confusing house, but Elisa loved it and refused to change anything about it. So, while Elisa quickly found her room, Antoine wandered for about 5 minutes, simply looking for his room.

When he finally found it, he noticed immediately that his window was open. He stood still for a moment, then shrugged it off. Quickly crossing the room, he shut the door firmly. It was nothing. Niente.

But it wasn't was it? For there, upon his pillow, was a feather. White. Same as before. Quickly, Antoine turned back to the window and looked out, looking for the white shadow. Nothing, once again. Still, he couldn't ignore this. The assassin had followed him clear out here, way out to his family's villa. He had hoped the trip would discourage him, and maybe the assassin would lose sight of him. He knew who he was now, though. Ezio Auditore. He'd asked his sister of the name, but hadn't gotten a reply. Just silence. He still thought that he knew the name, but for now his curiosity would not be sated.

Now, though, he was leaving. He'd come here simply because he'd thought he'd get away from the assassin… now it seemed like he had led him to the ones he held dear. It was a foolish mistake, and one he would not repeat again.

Quickly, Antoine gathered his things, which thankfully hadn't spread far. He grabbed a sheet of paper, and scrawled a note. He pulled on darker clothes, to help him blend into the night, for he would be fleeing an assassin, someone who had tamed night itself. This would be tricky, but he would try his hardest.

Last of all, he tied his lengthy black hair back with a small, thick twine, necessary to keep it out of his eyes. His hair was only shoulder length, but it was cumbersome and thick enough that he deemed this a time it needed to be held back. He would need to see.

He checked the mirror, using soot to dust anything that appear too white, not sparing even the silver on his boots. He even covered his face, grimacing when he realized how strange he would look when he arrived at his country house. When he was finished, the only white on him was the whites of his eyes, and even them he was able to hide by pulling the hood on his cloak up.

Stepping back, he appraised himself. He felt a chill go up his spine, realizing how… _assassin_ he looked. Quickly he made the sign of the cross, then grabbed his things. It was time to leave. Elisa was in danger every moment he remained.

On his way out the door, he pinned up the note. Then he gathered up Tuono, and headed off quietly. No doubt the assassin had marked his movements, but he was a man as well, and no horse could outrace Tuono. Now what mattered was stealth, and trickery. Lies. It would become his life.

For two weeks, he lived in peace. He had fooled the shadow. The note he had left had been lies, of course. It had been addressed to his sister.

_ Elisa;_

_Dearest _sorella_, your sadness has weighed upon my mind, and I have decided that to appease you, I will search out Cristiano. I will ask and make sure that he is certain in his life. I will head back to Venice for now. A hurry you might say, but it is a long trip, and you know that I have no patience. If the boy is unhappy with his chosen life, I'll send him back to you, along with a sore behind. If he is happy, I will continue on with my journeys. I have business in Roma that I must attend to. I do not know when I will be back, so do not wait up for me. I will send a letter before the year's end. _

_ With love,_

_ Antoine_

Roma. Laughable. What business would he have there? And yet, it seemed to have worked. Ezio Auditore must have thought Antoine silly, to actually follow the directions on the note. It was obviously a ploy, yet it seemed to have worked. Still, it could've just been that Tuono had lost the white shadow, and Ezio had been forced to check all leads, laughable or not.

"You're making excuses again," he said roughly to himself, shoving himself to his feet. He spoke to an empty, lonely house. This was Antoine's country house, devoid of all life except for Tuono, a groom for Tuono, and a cat named _Ombra_, Shadow.

Even as he spoke, that Shadow cat of his glided into the room, head haughtily in the air. It was a reminder, and Antoine sighed. Right. Life. It was time to forget the fantasies, and move on with life. In a few months he would be able to return home, Ezio Auditore forgotten. Surely the shadow wouldn't follow him forever… he wasn't important enough. He might've been interesting, but he wasn't interesting enough to warrant such a thorough search. Even now he suspected Ezio to have given up. Still, better to be safe rather than sorry, and to remain safe. He still didn't know why Ezio had followed him… revenge? Mayhaps.

Suddenly, Antoine was startled from his reverie by a knock on the door, and a muffled voice calling a greeting. Antoine thought of the groom, and cursed. What was the man doing here? He had the entire barn to himself, and it was a very nicely decorated barn, indeed! It was nicer than some parts of the house!

"Hold on a moment," called Antoine, bending down to ruffled Shadow's fur, who graced him with an irritated glare, before making himself presentable. It always helped to look nice for the servants, it made them feel more kind towards their employers. Besides, they were people, too, and Antoine didn't enjoy looked mediocre in front of _anybody_, not even his family or friends.

Finally, Antoine pulled open the door, a greeting frozen in his mouth.

Not the groomsman.

"You've led me on quite the merry chase, Antoine Valcari," commented the White Shadow, grinning playfully, "but I've finally found you."


	5. Chapter 5

He had no idea what hit him, but slowly the air was being choked out of him. He looked down, noticed the arms wrapped around his throat, and immediately began to swing. He felt something connect, but as the hands kept squeezing, it must've been off. With the wild shaking of his head and body, he caught of glimpse of black hair, and very dark brown eyes. However, he wasn't too sure of that, really. The whole place was darkening, and he was aware enough to know he was losing consciousness. He gave one, last struggle, before slumping down. The last thing he felt was two arms encircling him, and quietly lifting him.

Uncle Mario would be ashamed of this failure.

When he came to, it was in a jail. A dark, dreary jail. He supposed he should be surprised he wasn't dead. That was what they should've done, of course.

As if echoing his thoughts, a startled shout went up, then was cut short. The sound of metal in flesh was a familiar, sad sound. A dampened thump, a murmur of a voice, which Ezio could imagine saying "Requiescat in pace". How many times had he said that in his 44 years of life? How many more times would he say it? It troubled him that he didn't know the answer to either. He didn't have long to dwell upon it, though, for his accomplice had arrived, and he didn't look very impressed.

"Ezio, Ezio! I thought we had left this behind 20 years ago! I'm getting too old to bail you out of situations like this!" scolded the man, scowling at him from underneath his hood. "Volpe! I'm surprised it is you! I had expected Antonio, or Uncle Mario, even, not you! Why have you come?"

"Bah," said the man, still scowling at him, though a smile played dangerously on the edges of his mouth. "Antonio is… busy tonight. And Mario is too old, you know that. Besides, I was the closest, so when I heard what had happened I came straight over." The man, dressed in an orange-colored cloak, looked stern still, but Ezio realized the worst was over. As if in agreement, Volpe pulled out the keys to the cell, letting Ezio out quickly. "Come, we will finish this conversation when we have reached safety. For now, find your own way out."

Ezio nodded, not surprised in the least. It was harder to hide two people than one, going separately they'd have a higher chance of making it out easily.

"See you later, then."

"And you, Ezio."

Standing upon the roof, Ezio watched the carnival closely, watching for anyone who matched the person who had attacked him. Revenge was not on his mind, strangely. Curiosity was. The man who had snuck up on him had been quick on his feet, and silent to boot. He was a good candidate for something Mario had been bringing up lately… making the Assassin order larger. He would follow this man for awhile, and then decide…. _if_ he could find him.

It took another hour, but luckily the police had locked everyone down, so no one could leave. If the man hadn't managed to sneak out before the Guards had arrived, he should still be down there….

There. Hidden in shadow, naturally. Ezio couldn't even tell his features apart, to be sure if it was the same man, but his placement and attitude said it all. He was naturally a silent man, who preferred being alone and out of crows. Exactly the type of man who would be able to sneak up on an assassin, and being alone in the middle of a party.

He was a tall man, with the build of a worker. But a worker wouldn't be at a noble's party, so who was he? Ezio slowly worked his way down, listening. Gossipmongers would answer his question.

It was answered almost immediately, of course. It was the talk of the night. Antoine Valcari, a blacksmith well-known for his skill, both in creating and fighting. This was getting better and better as the night went by. It was time to step back, though, and wait for the moment to reveal himself.

He'd ended that way, but his… personality got in the way. Antoine hired a small orphan urchin to send a letter to Antoine, then sent the boy back to Monteriggioni where he would be raised by a family who wanted him. He felt soft.

He then watched the house carefully. If Antoine wanted to bolt, he would do it now. No doubt he would easily figure out who this "Ezio Auditore" was, and take off right away. It was a long night, and Ezio allowed himself to rest a bit. Antoine would have to make noise as he left, so he felt confident he would catch him.

Silly him. He'd forgotten the very reason he'd chosen Antoine as a possible Assassin. It was pure luck that he woke in time to see the dark-haired man leaving his house. After a mad scramble after him, Ezio watched him get onto a beautiful horse, allowing him to get away for a bit before mounting his own horse. This would have to be done carefully.

Foolish, stupid, stupid. Antoine was gone, for good this time. He'd given in and left another reminder for Antoine, and the man had bolted again, this time very well. Antoine hadn't seen it at all, though he'd been expecting it, somewhat. He'd actually been surprised Antoine had associated the feather with him, or had noticed he'd visited at all. He'd left a note on where he'd gone, and though Ezio didn't believe it at all, he literally had nothing else to go on. It had rained during the night, effectively washing away all hints of Antoine's whereabouts. In fact, Ezio hadn't even noticed Antoine's bolt until the sister of his woke up the entire household by screeching curse words at him.

So, he was off to Venice.

Ah, Antoine. It had been a good ploy, but it failed in the end. A couple of well-placed couples sent Ezio to some obscure cousin, who told a nice, long story about the beautiful cottage that Antoine owned, where he often went to work on his harder jobs, to enjoy the peace and quiet. At the time of year, it was supposed to be nearly empty. By now, Ezio was positive. Antoine was the man for the job. He could move quickly and quietly in the night, and avoid detection. He was a good fighter, and could even make weapons. He could also totally lose an assassin, _more than once_.

Ezio packed up his bag for a bit of a journey, and then headed away from Venice. It would be a couple days' journey.

Knocking on the door was the first approach, and would probably be the one that would freak him out the least. Antoine no doubt figured that Ezio was trying to kill him. He was an _assassin_ after all! So, Ezio took great care to make himself look presentable, hoping that if he didn't look like a serial killer, Antoine wouldn't associate him with one.

Ezio held up a hand, hesitated, then knocked. He winced when he heard someone curse on the other side, and a plaintive meow. Great. Antoine wasn't one for being bothered, then. Probably wasn't a morning person. Ah, well. He wasn't either.

"Hold on a moment," came the voice from the other side, who Ezio assumed was Antoine. There was shuffling around, more meows, and a couple more curses. Finally, the door was opened, and Ezio met Antoine's eyes for the first time.

At least they were brown, just as he'd thought. So he _did _have the right person! Ezio looked him up and down really quick, wondering at his height. He was pretty darn tall. "You've led me on quite the merry chase, Antoine Valcari," commented Ezio cheerfully, "but I've finally found you."


End file.
